


The Ice Dance - Viktor Nikiforov's birthday

by silentdroplets



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Christmas fair, Fluff, Happy Birthday Victor Nikiforov, Ice show, M/M, Russia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:32:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9001834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdroplets/pseuds/silentdroplets
Summary: It's Viktor Nikiforov's birthday, and it happens to fall on the day where Yuri has to skate at an ice show at a Christmas fair in Russia.So Yuri does his best to make it nice and flashy for everyone to see their love.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Noitratoxin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noitratoxin/gifts), [iamalivenow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamalivenow/gifts).



> For Noitratoxin and iamalivenow for inspiring me so much with their works and kindness. Also for Viktor Nikiforov because it's his birthday.

Coming to Japan all the way from Russia and spending eight months with the one he's had a crush on ever since the last Grand Prix Finals is, to be honest, a great idea.

The best idea Viktor has in quite a while.

In fact, he's proud of himself for following that sudden thought of his to slap all his belongings in a little suitcase, make all the necessary arrangements in a single night, bidding farewell to Yakov and rushing over, even if it's a bit rushed.

Everything's paid off.

Viktor smiles to himself, looking down at his feet with a bag of takeout in his hand as he walks in the cold evening of Russia. Fried dumplings, with some meat in them, to prepare for tomorrow, and katsudon he's managed to find in a tiny Japanese takeout store.

The lights are nice, he notes. They glow in the olive grey of the night, making the street bright enough for him to see, but also dim enough to feel comfortable in.

Sometimes, having the spotlights shining on you - literally - too often is a tiring thing. Imprisoned in the constant expectations of the crowd around you.

Well, he thinks while smiling to the stars, Yuri's here now.

It's like a weight lifted off his feet, shackles being released from his neck, when he met Yuri.

What a wonderful feeling that is, to be free. He wants to cherish it as long as possible.

His thoughts run on and on, even when he steps into the lift and it brings him soaring up, up to the private level where he stays. His thoughts keep burbling on and on as he walks along the cold corridors to the apartment.

Then all quietens when he fits the key in and opens the door to see the figure in the shadows staring out of the windows, into the vast city.

It takes everything in Viktor to not drop the food in his hands to pounce on Yuri. Instead, he sets the package on the table - gently - and walks towards him, sliding his arms around the other's waist. Yuri doesn't move.

"Would the royal prince like to have his dinner?" he asks, resting his head on Yuri's shoulder. It feels warm, like he's a wandering half of a puzzle and now he's finally connected with his other half, full, complete. It's a wonderful feeling, better than having the metal chains bound to him, to be honest.

He feels Yuri smile. "I'm not a prince," he laughs and turns around to plant his lips on Viktor's. Their teeth hit each other, just for a brief moment, but it's perfect. So perfect. Yuri's arms settle on Viktor's shoulders.

When they part, Yuri's face holds just a hint of pink, while Viktor looks at him with a warm gaze.

"You are. Well, to me, anyway.”

“Cheesy."

"But it's true.”

They both laugh.

Viktor gestures to the packets on the table. "So, are we going to eat?" he asks. Yuri nods.

"Of course."

They end up on the bed, snuggling with each other as they nibble on the warm food, exchanging the occasional murmur of approval of the dinner. All warm and familiar, the love enveloping him. When they've finished, Viktor picks up the empty cartons and heads to the bin to toss them away.

Yuri stays huddled in the blankets, watching his back bend over.

"Hey, scoot over." Yuri does so, and Viktor slips into the bed next to him. They've moved the two spare beds together, well, why not, so they can sleep together. He draws closer and pulls Yuri in for another kiss.

"Sleep tight for tomorrow, okay, sweetheart?" he whispers. Yuri makes a tiny noise in the base of his throat and leans in further, sealing his lips shut. How wonderful.

So many feelings. All are wonderful. 

And that's because he's found his love and life.

~~~~~~

Viktor wakes up to Yuri sleep-kicking him in the thigh.

Painful, but, oh well. He sits up and rubs his leg a little, before swinging his feet out of the blankets. He takes extra caution not to wake the sleeping beauty beside him.

He slips on a comfy jumper and coat, wraps a scarf around his neck and leaves the room.

Russia is cold and absolutely beautiful. The ocean he stands in front of glimmers in the morning sunrise, balancing tiny boats and ships in the horizon. It reminds him a little of Hasetsu once again.

He lifts up his hand to the sun, as though the ring on his finger is drawing him to the light.

It glimmers. Just like the many times the other matching ring glitters on the ice, on Yuri's finger. Just like the many times they've locked fingers and kissed them together. Just like the many times the rings clack as they hold each other's hands in the comfort of his - no, their apartment.

He feels like the most blissful man on Earth.

The wind picks up and blows into his eyes.

Well. Time to head back to the apartment.

When he's stepped in, his fingers thawing in the heated living room, he hears some rustling in the bedroom, so he heads in there to check on Yuri.

There he is, standing in front of the window, beautiful in the morning glow, hair sticking up in places that makes him mesmerisingly adorable, his shirt, too big for him, slanting off his arm, and-

No, wait. Something’s wrong.

Viktor rushes up to Yuri and cups his face, bringing it closer to his and kissing him passionately. Yuri doesn’t try to struggle and melts into it, kissing back, and Viktor feels tears running freely onto his own cheeks.

When they pull apart, Viktor gazes into Yuri’s eyes with a concerned look. 

“What’s wrong, Yuri?” he asks, but the other doesn’t reply and shakes his head. He hastily wipes away the tears from his face and sniffs once to get all his emotions back inside of him. He doesn’t need Viktor to become more worried than he already is.

“It’s nothing, so shall we have breakfast?”  
  
“Yuri-“  
  
“Viktor. I’m fine.”  
  
He shuts up. After all, he knows how stubborn Yuri can get, and he doesn’t want to witness his wrath upon trying to probe any further. Everyone has anxieties and worries. The ice show Yuri has tonight is a huge one, too, and Yuri’s most probably afraid of messing up.

They sit on the bed in silence.

So they, linking hands, shuffle out of the bedroom and separate as Viktor heads to the kitchen to make food while Yuri washes up.

They sit at the table with blini, with strawberry jam on them - goodness knows where Viktor got that from - and some sausages, and start eating. It’s all warm and delicious, and Yuri wonders how Viktor did this all, especially after the incident with the burnt green tea. How does one burn tea in the first place?

Viktor seems to have figured out what Yuri’s thinking about and laughs. “I had Yurio teach me how to cook,” he chuckles. “He wasn’t too pleased with it, but he taught me some basic skills.”

Yuri laughs along.

“What about the sausages?”

“I chucked them into the microwave.”  
  
“Quality cooking by Viktor Nikiforov.”  
  
“Quality indeed.”

They finish up the rest of the food in silence and Viktor brings the plates to the back to wash them up. Yuri heads to the washroom, then pads to the bedroom with a bottle and comb in his hands.

After Viktor’s done he goes into the room, wiping his hands on his shirt, when he sees the other fumbling with the hair products and laughs.

“What’re you doing, Yuri?” he asks, resting a hand on his shoulder. Yuri shrugs as he tries valiantly to slick the hair gel on the loose strands flying wild around his head.

“I don’t know,” comes the reply. HIs hands fall in defeat. “I can’t comb my hair properly, Viktor. Help me.”

Viktor laughs and picks up the hair gel and comb. “You can’t do it properly without my help, can you, prince?” he says as he steps behind Yuri and begins to smooth out his hair. Yuri shakes his head just once. 

He combs the locks of dark hair back and pours just a bit of gel on it, just like he’s always done before Yuri’s competitions. The room is properly lit now. He watches as the rays fall on Yuri’s face and admires his beauty.

“How do you think the fair would be like, seeing as it’s your first time going to one?”

“Full of excited kids and food, and possibly a Santa.”

Viktor laughs. 

“There will definitely be food and a Santa, but not so many excited children, seeing as most of them are mature enough to behave. Well, at least at the ones I’ve been to.”

“I see.” Yuri laughs as well.

“I’m sure you’ll do perfect at the ice show.”

“What if I won’t do as perfectly as you expect me to be?”

Ah. That's the problem. He sees.

“You’ll do perfectly, trust me. You’re completely perfect yourself, anyway.”

Viktor gives the now fully combed-back hair a little pat and sets the hair products back on the dressing table. “Well, now, shall we go?”  
  
Yuri turns around and flashes him a smile, the small, warm, comfortable one, and nods.

~~~~~~

The Christmas fair is exactly as Viktor said it would be, only more crowded.

The food! Yuri is sure he must have spent most of his time in Japan in sheer ignorance of the true delicacies around the world other than katsudon, because the baked potatoes, gingerbread and mulled wine are truly delicious. Well, he took a few sips of the wine from Viktor’s cup, but it’s enough for him to feel fuzzy inside.

They walk around the place, staring at beautiful ornaments that glitter in the sunlight and little pendants with tiny red stones embedded in them. They stop at a stall and Yuri pays for a little snow globe with two skaters and a dog in it.

“It looks just like us, doesn’t it?” Viktor exclaims in Russian, and Yuri can barely make out what he means. The shopkeeper laughs and nods and hands them the little paper bag. Yuri tucks the thing in his backpack.

They stroll to the rink set up in the middle of the square and the organiser recognises them immediately.

“Nice to see that you’ve arrived early!” he shouts over the babble of the crowd. “The ice is almost ready, so you can have a little practice skate on it soon, and then we’ll have Yuri come with us for his costume and final rehearsal!”

They nod and sit on a nearby bench.

“You’ll watch me all the way, won’t you, Viktor?” Yuri murmurs into his scarf.

“Of course I will.”

They watch as the workers bustle about with some weird machinery and tools, and after a while of confusing-looking work on the ice stage the people wave to them. Yuri stands up.

“I’ll be going,” he breathes and Viktor grasps his hand, just one more time, and everything around them stops and it’s only them staring into each other’s eyes.

How absolutely wonderful, this feeling, this moment.

And then Yuri’s hand slips away from his and he’s off. Viktor feels a swell of pride in his chest - his beloved Yuri skating for the famous Christmas fair, being the star prince of the show. He cannot wait to watch the performance in the evening.

~~~~~~

It’s a long wait, a long, agonising wait, with some fruit and nuts and another cup of wine to warm himself up, but the time finally arrives.

He’s at the ice earlier than anyone is, because well, it’s Yuri. He bags the best spot in front of the stage and waits patiently for the lights to shine and for the skater to appear.

The crowd around him grows and grows, and it’s a matter of time before he is squeezed against the gates that fence the ice and his irritation, too, grows.

That is, until the music starts and he catches a glimpse of Yuri behind the stage ready to take off.

He manages to catch Yuri’s eyes and waves. Yuri smiles back and waves.

And he’s off, out on the ice, his costume sparkling beautifully in the glare of the Christmas lights and he glides along to wave at the audience. Everyone cheers at his appearance and reaches out to high-five him, so he taps everyone’s hands as he skates down the ice, and when he reaches Viktor, right at the very end, he gives his hand a small squeeze before he turns around and dances.

Oh, the dance. Viktor is sure it’s enough for even he, a man, to become pregnant. He watches every twirl of Yuri’s hands, every move he makes, every jump he does. It’s a flawless performance. He’s reminded of the times Yuri has skated in the Grand Prix series, seducing him with pork cutlet bowls, moving him with elegant memories of their journey together.

What a wonderful Christmas.

Everyone else is cheering and screaming, excited from the intensity of Yuri’s skating. He sure is one hell of a perfect guy, Viktor thinks. 

He smirks as Yuri holds out his right hand to the gaslights - it’s not a part of the performance, but he does it anyway for everyone else to see the golden sparkle on his hand. Viktor holds out his, too, and they both gleam together, in tandem.

Before he knows it, though, the gate in front of him is opened and Yuri’s grabbing his open hand, pulling him onto the ice. 

“I knew you’d do that,” he whispers in pride and skates off to behind the stage, leaving Viktor on the ice with his shoes. He hasn’t been on the ice without his skates before, and it feels weird. But sort of nice, since it’s Yuri who pulled him out there.

Yuri returns with a pair of skates in his hands, and when Viktor is presented with them, he notices the golden sheen of the blades and the familiar Russian flag at its heels. Since when had Yuri stuffed his own skates into his backpack?  
  
“Put them on and let’s skate,” Yuri says and smiles, gliding off to continue the last of his performance. 

The audience roars louder now, clapping for them, clapping for Viktor, and he yanks off his boots and slips his feet into the comfortable skates and he heads for Yuri, copying his moves. He’s watched Yuri rehearse so many times, he knows exactly which direction to skate to, which jump follows, and which ending pose comes after.

But the music doesn’t stop.

He’s left standing limp on the ice, puzzled as Yuri skates towards him and pulls him to the centre of the stage. He wraps his arms around Viktor, nuzzling his nose into his shoulder, and the rest of the audience exclaims in pleasant surprise. 

Yuri then skates off into the backstage and brings back a beautiful cake, the candles glowing softly in the dimming gaslights.

“Happy birthday, Viktor,” he whispers, planting a quick kiss on his lips, before handing the cake to him. “Make a wish.”

Viktor stares at the cake, which has little strawberries on it, then at Yuri, at the audience watching them expectantly, then back at the cake. He watches the flames flicker and dance in the soft winter wind.

He smiles.

“My wish is already granted,” is all he can choke out before blowing out the candles and kissing Yuri full on the lips, in front of everybody, on the ice. He feels Yuri tremble as he kisses back, and they both melt into the contact.

Everyone else bursts into much louder cheer and the storekeepers clap for the beautiful couple as well.

~~~~~~

The bedroom smells of scented candles. Caramel, strawberries, assorted fruits, the ocean.

“You lit that?” Viktor asks, settling onto the bed. Yuri nods. 

“It’s the smell you like.”  
  
“Yeah, it certainly is.”

He pulls the blankets over his body and sinks into the comfort of their bed. 

“To be honest, I completely forgot about my birthday,” he admits, smiling at his own foolishness. Yuri grins too. “That skate was a huge surprise.”

“That’s good, since it’s meant for just you.”

Viktor closes his eyes and hears a faint scuffling from the corner of the room, before he’s shaken awake by the other and he sits up. 

Oh.

Oh, wow.

“I-I had them modify the figures a bit,” Yuri explains, a pink tint spreading across his cheeks. “Happy birthday and merry Christmas, Viktor.”

Viktor can barely hold the little globe up as he gazes at the small figures in it.

“Yuri.”

“Y-Yes?”

“This is beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Thank you.”

Tiny figures of Viktor and Yuri skate together, their lips touching, with their rings sparkling and lighting up the stage around them.

 

Because love wins.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Merry Christmas and have lots of food and fun with your family! 
> 
> Thank you for reading this fic. Makes my day a bit better, you know, for a little peasant like me.
> 
> I'm silentdroplets, Jingx, whatever you wanna call me, I'm on tumblr too, come say hi if you want! Once again, merry Christmas and enjoy your day!


End file.
